


Love Ever Lost

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth Greene had always been so certain of at least one thing in her life: she understood the meaning of loss. She had seen her father beheaded directly in front of her. Spent months locked away from her family, only to lose herself to a bullet in her scalp moments after she had found them again. Yes, Beth Greene understood loss at its fullest. </p><p>It took kneeling on the cold, damp forest floor one night waiting for a death she would soon accept willingly to realize how damn wrong she was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Ever Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot--and it will STAY a one-shot--is the result of a Head-Canon I had after watching the Season 6 finale. It might also be the result of many of my tumblr followers begging me to write it. I hope it's not total crap. Also, this contains SPOILERS from the finale as well as dialogue pulled directly from it.
> 
> You've been warned.

Beth Greene had always been so certain of at least one thing in her life: she understood the meaning of  _ loss _ . She had seen her father beheaded directly in front of her. Spent months locked away from her family, only to lose herself to a bullet in her scalp moments after she had found them again. Yes, Beth Greene understood loss at its fullest. 

 

It took kneeling on the cold, damp forest floor one night waiting for a death she would soon accept willingly to realize how _damn_ wrong she was _._

 

It would probably be more accurate to say that that night Beth finally understood loss because she discovered it's levels. Like many, Beth had always mistaken loss to be one word-one emotion. Too soon, she learned the word had its own levels and depths and what each one would do to her. 

 

* * *

 

**Level One: Fight and Deny**

 

Beth was living in at the end of times with flesh-eating zombies on her tail at most times of the day. Fear was essential to her now and an ever-present friend: it just so happened to be the friend you avoided like the plague. The friend that thought of you as their best friend, but was really the bane of your existence that you couldn’t get away from, but secretly needed to survive on the days when your true friends were vacant. 

 

It was this friend she clung to as she sat in the metal container. Her hands were fighting solitarily to feebly quench the blood draining out of the gaping bullet hole in Daryl’s shoulder. The faded white sheet had long been stained red with blood from the gunshot wound. Daryl’s face was ghastly pale from blood loss. For the first time since knowing him, Beth saw weakness in his features and defeat. She wasn’t sure which scared her more. 

 

“Daryl, I can’t get the bleeding to stop.” She said, pressing down tighter against the useless material. 

 

“You ain’t gonna. Leave it be.” He muttered, between labored breaths. Beth looked around. No one moved to assist her. All of her companions--Michonne, Glenn and Rosita--seemed lost in their own world; their eyes would occasionally flit to one another, but then be downcast quickly. The fight was gone and it terrified her. Some time ago, she would have relished in this, as it would have been a perfect excuse to end her life without guilt. These people had taught her to fight though and she refused to give up. 

 

“You a fighter or not?” She said, sinking down inches from Daryl’s face. She saw a tiny speck of movement near his eyes. “You made me a fighter, remember? Don’t fucking pussy out on me now!”

 

“Leave him be, Beth,” Michonne said, reaching her hand out to Beth’s. Beth snatched it away.

 

“Like hell. He ain’t dying today.” Beth said, not bothering to even look at the other woman. She kept her eyes on the injured archer and was pleased when his met hers with a dangerous glare. “You got something to say?”

 

“When’d you get such a mouth?” He said, sitting up straighter. The classic half-smirk he sent revived her. 

 

“Probably had something to do with bad moonshine.” Beth said, softening at his teasing. 

 

“Probably.” He agreed. Movement outside made everyone jump. “Beth,” Daryl began, all hint of sarcasm and humor gone instantly, “you’re wrong. I’m dying today, but you ain’t. None of you.” He said, cutting his eyes to each person in the container. “Ya’ll get a shot, you run. I’ll distract them and you  _ will _ leave.” His eyes strayed to her and stayed there. “I took off and got you here, so I gotta get you out.”

 

“You didn't make me follow you.” Michonne whispered. “We chose, not you.”

 

“Because I went off half-cocked like some stupid asshole.” Daryl whispered. Beth hated the hoarseness of his voice. The pain had to be unbearable, not to mention the loss of his pride. 

 

“None of us are getting out of this.” Glenn mumbled, almost as if he didn't really care if they did. His nonchalant attitude of acceptance was harder for Beth to face than the certainty of her imminent death. 

 

She had no time left to think on that though as the doors opened. She watched Daryl blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden light. Whatever escape plan they could have formed was gone when they were hauled out to a line of kneeling people: people they knew. People who were their family. 

 

“Mag...Maggie?” Beth’s eyes widened when she heard Glenn’s frantic declaration. Her pregnant sister was kneeling only feet away from her. If it was possible, Maggie looked worse than Daryl. Her lips were blue and she was shaking violently as she fought to keep her body upright. Something was clearly wrong. See his pregnant wife kneeling in evident pain seemed to revive Glenn and he fought against their captors as they forced him to his knees. 

 

Suddenly, Daryl’s hand wrapped around Beth’s wrist, his blood staining her skin as he kept her from running to her sister's aid. He gently pulled her down to the ground until she was kneeling between him and Rosita. Beth kept her focus on her sister. Maggie's eyes stayed with Glenn who was leaning forward as far as he could, as if that simple movement would take him to his wife. Beth closed her eyes and willed them dry. 

 

“Alright, looks like we got a full tent.” The man who had ordered Dwight to lock them up earlier said, clapping his hands together. “Let's meet the man.” 

 

Beth tried to stay calm as the man walked towards the RV. She almost succeeded, even as it opened, until she looked down the line. 

 

Almost at the end of the line up, she saw a body literally quaking. It was shaking with no control as sweat poured down its face. It's eyes darted in all directions like a rodent caught in a trap, unable to escape its grasp. 

 

Beth couldn't say she was ever more afraid than in the moment she realized Rick Grimes had been brought to his knees too.

 

* * *

 

**Level Two: Cold Fear**

 

“Pissing our pants yet?” The man said, smiling wide as he stepped out of the trailer. “Oh boy,” he continued, “do I have a feeling we’re getting close.” Beth knew in that moment that they were going to die that night. This man wouldn’t be reasoned with; he enjoyed taunting them. Over his shoulder, Beth could see he was carrying a baseball bat with wire wrapped around its fat end.

 

Beth kept her eyes downcast as the man began walking in slow turns around their semi-circle.”Yep. Gonna be pee-pee in the pants city here real soon. Which one of your pricks is the leader?” He asked, extending his hand to each of them. No one spoke.

 

“It’s this one,” called one of the men who surrounded them, pointing down to Rick. “He’s the guy.”

 

The man with the bat stepped directly in front of their  _ leader _ . “Hi. You’re Rick, right?” He asked. “I’m Negan and I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool…” Negan drawled, “not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is, but I think you’re going to be up to speed shortly.” Negan paused, “Yeah. You are so going to regret crossing me in a few minutes.” Beth couldn’t help the shudder that went through her as the man smiled down at Rick. “Yes you are.”

 

Beth chanced a look around her. They were surrounded by men and trees. There was not even an inch available to crawl through them. She tried to focus on the one-sided conversation Negan seemed to be having with Rick, but she got the impression he was speaking solely to hear his own voice and the shell of her family cowering before this man took her attention. It wasn’t until she saw Negan lazily swing his bat down towards Rick that her eyes focused on the father-like figure she had known for almost five years. 

 

“Give me your shit or I will kill you.” Negan announced, smile ever-present. “Today was career day,” he continued, walking down the line towards her. Beth noticed Maggie was hunching over between Rick and Abraham; it was getting harder for her to stay kneeling with every minute. “We invested a lot so that you would know who I am and what I could do. You work for me now.” Negan declared, pointing his bat at Rick. “You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job.” To her right, Daryl remained stone, emotionless to the insult. “Now I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most. Certainly. Will.” The man enjoyed the theatrics, Beth had to give him that. “...the word is out. You are not safe, not even close.” The man continued taunting them and Beth closed her eyes, fighting to remain calm. 

 

When she opened her eyes, Negan had stepped back to address them all. “You don’t really think you were going to get out of this without being punished, did you?” Rick’s eyes stayed low, all resemblance of the prideful man she had known gone. “I don’t want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re dead, can you? But,” Negan droned on, “ you killed my people--a whole damn lot of ‘em--more than I’m comfortable with and for that, you gonna pay.” Negan said, looking around the line up. “So now, I’m going to beat the holy hell out of one of you.” Suddenly, he began swinging the bat down and across his body as if he was in a circus, juggling. “This is Lucille and she is awesome.” He said, speaking of the bat as if it was a person he adored. “All this...all this is just so that we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.”

 

Beth realized then that not all of them would die tonight; only one. This would be a single execution; she may have just been given a reprieve, but she still felt like heaving, especially when Negan began taunting Carl. She had watched him grow from a young, shy boy with a crush to an almost man. To watch him be taunted sent her into a rage. She took a deep, steadying breath to keep herself on her knees. Her eyes shot open when the man addressed her sister next. 

 

“Jesus,” Negan drawled, coming up to Maggie, “you look shity. Maybe I should just put you out of your misery right now.” He said, standing up with Lucille perched over his shoulder, ready to swing. 

 

“No!” It was instantaneous. Beth jumped to her feet as Glenn dove for Maggie. Neither reached her. The man who had captured them tackled Glenn to the ground while another wrapped his arm around Beth’s middle, hauled her back and threw her down. Barely able to kneel, Daryl still managed to catch and steady her before her face hit the ground. 

 

“Stop it!” Beth heard Maggie screaming as two more men stepped forward and began kicking Glenn. “Stop it!” She screamed, hysterically. 

 

“Nope...nope.” She heard Negan mutter, shaking his head. “Get’em back in line.” 

 

“No…” Glenn sobbed as Dwight dragged him away from his wife. Maggie's body was now shaking with sobs. 

 

“Don't any of you do that again.” Negan said, never losing control. “I will shut that shit down. No exceptions.” He added, piercing each of them with a glare. “The first one’s free. It's an emotional moment.” He stated, casually. “I get it,”  Negan added, smiling at Glenn. 

 

Beth visibly shook at the evil of the man. He didn't miss it. Suddenly his eyes found her for the first time and the smirk that followed caused her to shake again. He walked towards her, his bat swinging casually at his side like a pet on a leash. Beth felt Daryl twitch next to her; his hand was inches from hers, but he remained still. 

 

“Well, you weren't actually the first one, darling, were you?” He said, kneeling in front of her. Beth fought to keep her breathing even. “Shit, you do have some fine merchandise here, Rick.” Negan called out, quickly cutting his eyes to each woman in the line up before resting them on the blonde woman in front of him. 

 

Beth stiffened at the insult, but stayed silent. She fought not to recoil when Negan brought the bat up to her face and gently ran it down her cheek, as if it were his fingers caressing her. It was pure instinct that made her to twist away when the wire scratched her at the base of her cheek. Her skin burned as a trickle of blood ran down onto her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize a better time than this. She failed when she heard Negan cackle. 

 

“You are a pretty one, sweetheart.” Negan said, his breath sickeningly clean against her. “Which one of these shitheads do you belong to?” He said, twirling a piece of her hair in his fingers. She stayed silent. 

 

Negan stared at her a moment longer before standing suddenly. He looked around the group for a moment before pointing at Beth with Lucille. “Do I look stupid to any of you? You are not going to tell me that ain't one of you pencil dicks not fucking that?” Not gonna tell me that.” He said, as the men around him sneered. 

 

“Is it Jr. Rick over there?” He said, pointing Lucille down the line at Carl. Beth showed no emotion. “Nope.” Negan said, answering his own question. “You know what? I'm damn curious now.”  

 

Before she could move to avoid it, Beth felt herself hauled up by her hair and thrown in front of the group. She tried to make eye contact with Rick, but all she got was a pained, panicked glance before his eyes were darting around again. She refused to look in Daryl’s direction at all. It would be better that way; she was certain that the protector in him was struggling to remain still as Negan humiliated her. 

 

“Who's gonna claim her?” Negan yelled, throwing his hand up in a wide circle as if he was at a casino, calling for bets. The men jeered. No one moved. There  _ wasn’t _ anyone to claim her. Negan was wrong; she belonged to no man in their family. Even as she said it, she waited for the confirmation that would certainly come soon to falsify her the thought. No words had been spoken to suggest it, but Beth knew the closest she came to having a partner was Daryl. Ever since the prison fall and their time alone, they had stayed within each other’s sight at all times. Only while she had been at Grady had she not been around Daryl; if she were being honest, he was one of the reasons she had kept walking and fighting her way back to her family after she had recovered from being shot. They had all thought her dead, but she had refused to give up. Finding them in Alexandria had been one of the happiest moments of her short life thus far. Daryl had literally fallen to his knees at sight of her standing at the gate. There was certainly a connection between them that neither tried to deny, but neither of them had pursued it either. 

 

“Hmm...maybe he don't love you, sweetheart?” He said, bending down to Beth’s level; he placed a hand gently on her shoulder as if to comfort her. Out of the corner of her eye, Beth saw Daryl stiffen. “Wanna find out?” Negan taunted. “I do.” He said, before reeling up and back handing her. The blow was fierce and it brought Beth forward. She hadn't had chance to right herself before Negan’s boot had collided with her stomach and she rolled over to her back, clutching the wounded skin. 

 

“Leave her alone,” Beth heard Carl yell from where he kneeled, his face pinched from frustration.

 

“Mother fucker!” Daryl growled. Looking up, she saw him rush forward, barely rising from his knees in his need to get to her. His injury seemed forgotten in that moment.  

 

“Found him...I think!” Negan shouted before sending a solid kick to Daryl’s head. 

 

“Leave her be.” Daryl grunted, his face in the dirt. 

 

Negan seemed to ignore him. Instead, he walked around them both in a lazy circle, shaking his head. “This shit is interesting right here.” Beth kept her eyes on Daryl, refusing to make eye contact with the bastard. Quickly, Daryl righted himself so he was kneeling directly in front of her. 

 

“Was I wrong, sweetheart?” Negan said, peering down at Beth again. “Who’s enjoying you these days? The kid or the wingless wonder here?” Beth’s fear elevated as she realized one of the two most important people in her life was going to die tonight and it was going to be her fault.

 

“It’s me,” Daryl drawled, rolling his eyes beside her. “She’s mine.” Beth looked up at Daryl and, even now, was surprised by the intensity of the gaze he fixed her with. Whatever charade they were engaged in with Negan, there was no hint of deception in the way he said those words. He meant what he said. Whether they had discovered what they were to one another was irrelevant; both knew that she was his. The realization sent Beth into a tailspin. Her breathing quickened until she was sucking in deep gulps of air just to breathe. 

 

“She’s yours, alright,” Negan said, approvingly. “That is sheer panic, my friend,” He said, bending down close to Beth before turning to smile at Daryl. “You’re a lucky man, luckier than me.”  The men surrounding them all began to cackle; Beth saw Daryl’s eyes crease in confusion. 

 

“Just curious,” Negan said, still smiling, “are you willing to part with her?” The man asked the question like she was a used car. 

 

“Just kill me and get it over with,” Daryl said, irritated with the mind games. 

 

“Suit yourself,” Negan said, raising Lucille again. 

 

“Don't..God…” Beth begged, dragging herself over to Daryl. “Don’t...please.” Beth begged, as tears streamed out and her breathing became rougher. 

 

Daryl dragged her face to where she was forced to look him in the eyes, inches away. “Don’t you ever fucking beg for me.” He said intensely, before pushing her away. Out of nowhere, two men grabbed Beth by her legs and began dragging her away. She fought and screamed at the top of her lungs, her nails digging into the ground. The men, all of them, just laughed. 

 

* * *

 

**Level Three: Heartbreak of Nothing**

 

“You know what? This isn't fair.” Negan said, stopping Lucille in mid-air. “Get back in line.” He said, kicking Daryl away from him. “It's not punishment if I kill you just have her, is it?” 

 

Beth breathed a sigh of relief when Daryl almost fell to his knees beside her. “If I don't pick her though, we are going to have to have this chat again.” 

 

Negan was walking away as he said it, but somehow, in that moment, Beth knew. 

 

“No!” The sound was animalistic as it tore itself out of her. As if he had been summoned, Negan raced down the line, swinging Lucille proper. The wooden atrocity made a sickening crack as it collided. 

She felt Daryl catch her as she saw the blood seeping down the side of her face. Her vision was fading, but she looked at him still. She heard Maggie screaming, but looked to Daryl’s shimmering figure alone. 

 

After all she'd been through, it infuriated Beth that she had been brought down by a man's blow. As her vision rapidly darkened, Beth swore she heard a gun go off. Overwhelming that background noise though was Daryl’s voice, pleading. 

 

“Don't fucking do this again, Beth. Come on, girl!” He begged, his forehead falling down against hers. 

 

As her vision went completely black, she wished she wasn't. 

 

* * *

 

Beth knew she wasn't dead. Heaven wouldn't smell like rubbing alcohol and blood, she hoped. She began to shake when she realized she was in a hospital room again.  _ Grady _ . Her breathing picked up and she heard a machine going off. Her eyes refused to open though and it only accelerated her panic. She tried to sit up, but a wave of dizzying nausea pulled her back down. She felt tears slide down her cheeks and noticed a ferocious burning as they fell across her temple; It reminded her of when she was nine years old. She had fallen off her horse onto the gravel that led to the stables, scraping her knee. The burning had been fierce when the tears hit the open, bleeding skin. 

 

Only when she felt a calloused hand gently grab her own did Beth realize that whether she was at Grady or not, she would be safe. She would be safe with that hand in hers, even if this was Hell. But, Beth knew she wasn’t dead. What she wanted to know was how she wasn’t dead.

 

“How?” She whispered, still unable to open her eyes. 

 

“Dwight,” Daryl whispered, bringing her hand up to cradle it in both of his own. “He shot Negan after he hit you. It reminded him of what the man had done to his wife; he couldn’t stand with it, I guess.” 

 

“Is he dead?” Beth whispered, moving her eyelids up slightly. She saw a bright light before shutting them again to avoid the pounding pain that had suddenly pulsed in her head. 

 

Daryl stayed quiet, but the pressure in her hand told her Negan was alive. 

 

“Rick let him live.” She induced.

 

“Said he’d serve as a reminder to stay  _ who we are _ .” Daryl growled. It was clear in his voice just what he thought of Rick’s decision. “Don’t worry though. First chance I get, he’s mine.” The depth of hatred and rage with which Daryl spoke terrified her. She ignored the pulsing pain and forced her eyes open.

 

“Speaking of yours?” Beth said, focusing her eyes on him. He looked so much better than he had last time she’d seen him. His dark complexion hadn’t completely returned, but the pale look of near-death was gone. All to show of his gunshot wound was a bruised scar of purple, raised skin sewn shut with stitching. Daryl wouldn’t allow a cast on his arm, she was certain. He wouldn’t want to be contained by it. 

 

“I meant what I said,” was the only reply Daryl offered. There would be no glorious declaration of love from him and Beth was certain there never would be. She also knew that Daryl would never be the one to make the first romantic gesture. He didn’t have it in him, which was why Beth used whatever strength she had left in that moment to encase her hand around his wrist and pull him down until his face was mere centimeters away. 

 

That’s why she was beyond shocked when he grabbed her suddenly by the back of head and brought her lips to his. There was no gentleness in the kiss, even though his hand held her up gently. Raw need to prove she was still there flowed from him into her as he moved his lips against her. Apparently, Bet had been wrong to think him so shy.

 

She was okay with  _ losing _ this game though. 

**Author's Note:**

> I almost did it. I almost killed one of them off, but I just couldn't do it, guys! I'm sorry I ended this with unrealistic fluff, but I just couldn't bring myself to truly let one of them get their skulls bashed in.


End file.
